2020/120: Two Rogues Make a Right -- Cat Sebastian

Even if we had never gone to bed together, even if neither of us fancied men, we'd still be together. We just wouldn't have a name for it. [loc. 2664]

I enjoyed this much more than It Takes Two to Tumble, though in some ways it's similar. Again, a Sedgwick brother -- in this case, Will, who carries physical and mental scars from his time in the Royal Navy -- falls in love: this time the romantic interest is Sir Martin Easterbrook, last seen dying of consumption in Hartley Sedgwick's attic after mismanaging his tenants and then letting the family manor to Ben Sedgwick for use as a charity school. At the opening of Two Rogues Make a Right, Martin finds himself in a strange house, being nursed by Will, his childhood friend. 

 And that is the majority of the plot: Will nurses Martin, they fall in love, they negotiate their relationship and their (individual and shared) places in the world. No external threats, no present dangers (though both protagonists are suffering from their pasts: Martin's ghastly childhood, Will's PTSD), no family feuds. It's a delight. 

 Martin has been 'delicate' for most of his life, and now has consumption. There are good days and bad days. But he does learn to seize the day: and he learns, too, that he can be loved and accepted for who he is, rather than becoming an inferior copy of his appalling father. Will, meanwhile, still wakes with nightmares of his appalling years in the Navy -- though, in a rare intrusion of the outside world, some closure is gained on that front -- but Martin rescued him in the year after his return, and he is keen to return the favour. If Martin will let him. 

 The women in this novel are excellent too. I especially liked the initially-fearsome Aunt Bermondsey ("darling, I'm making exactly one assumption, and it's that you don't want to go to bed with women"), and rural neighbours Mrs Tanner and her daughter Daisy, the latter of whom has realised that prettiness is enough of a burden without adding a sweet temper to it. Martin and Daisy have a great deal in common. 

One of the tenderest aspects of this friends-to-lovers romance, for me, was Will (cheerfully bisexual, treats sex as entertainment) learning how to be with Martin (touch-averse, demisexual, inexperienced and unfamiliar with his own desires). And I was also impressed with the author's light touch vis-a-vis class issues. While the difference in social status is irrelevant in their relationship, Martin and Will have very different ideas -- and very different prospects -- concerning financial security. 

We get to see Hartley being happy, and Will being successful, and Martin discovering that he doesn't have to live as an aristocrat. Love in a cottage, it turns out, is far more to his tastes. Despite the looming shadow of Martin's illness, the precarious bohemian lifestyle, and the two protagonists' disparate psychological issues, this is an immensely cheerful novel.